Hungover
by JennBenson
Summary: "She is the whiskey I drank in the bar I never meant to go in on the street I never meant to walk down and yet I find myself never wanting to sober up." Part 1 of 3.
1. Chapter 1

_**I blame this on the smothering anxiety of waiting for a renewal announcement. It has sent my mind into the abyss. Couple that with StormJon's obvious ability to send all Tuckson shippers into an ocean of feels, and I didn't stand a chance. This story is angsty, emotional, and sorta dark at times. If that's not your thing, here's your emergency exit button. Push it.**_

 _ **For those still along for the ride, this was originally intended as a one-shot, but it can turn into a two-parter if enough people are interested.  
**_

* * *

 **"She is the whiskey I drank in the bar I never meant to go in on the street I never meant to walk down and yet I find myself never wanting to sober up."**

 **JM Storm**

It was a frigidly cold February night in Oswego, NY. The lake effect snow coming off Lake Ontario was blanketing the city in a fresh three-foot coating, the roads shutting down for the night to clear them. Winds were howling, causing drifts up to eight feet to land on the sides of buildings.

Ed Tucker pulled his wool coat and scarf a bit tighter as he trudged from his quaint hotel to the tavern next door. The bells rang out loudly, signaling his arrival, and he stumbled in, stomping the snow off his boots and shivering slightly.

"Welcome, handsome," the bartender called from behind the old, rickety wooden counter. He took a moment to take in his surroundings. The tavern was small, dimly lit, and still sported walls of wooden paneling straight out of the seventies.

He was their only patron.

"Hope ya can find a spot," the bartender said with a wink. "We are pretty slammed."

Ed just grunted a little laugh, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the hook near the door. He rubbed his hands together, warming them up, before making his way over to a barstool and taking a seat, placing his phone face down in front of him.

"Ya look like ya could do with a drink," the bartender said. Ed eyed her, squinting a little bit as he tried to orient himself to the establishment. The server looked to be mid-fifties, slightly over-weight, with blonde hair teased to the point it may have been bigger than her face. But she seemed nice enough, and Ed had to admit he was desperate for a drink and not willing to wander out in the storm farther than this hole in the wall, so he folded his hands in front of him and offered her a tight smile.

"Bourbon," he said. "Neat."

"Man of few words, eh? Comin' right up," she responded with a wink. "Name's Barb."

Ed just nodded, not in the mood for small talk. He turned to try and look out the window, but they weren't entirely transparent, partly due to the storm but also because they were old and a bit dirty.

"Here ya go, stud," Barb said, placing the amber colored liquid in front of him.

"Thanks," he gruffed, holding the tumbler up to her in a mock toast before downing half the serving in one swallow.

He let out an exhale as the burn of the bourbon filled his throat. It felt good.

Barb just eyed him with a smirk, but didn't say anything.

Good _,_ Ed thought.

His eyes darted down to the glass as he twirled it around on the counter, allowing his mind to wander to the place it usually did when he had bourbon: a certain brunette lieutenant.

 _I think you should try the bourbon._

Ed outwardly winced as he thought back to that line. He remembered walking away, heading towards the bar, kicking himself for saying something so stupid, so contrite, given the fact that he knew she would not stay for a drink with him. In fact, he wasn't even sure why he had asked in the first place.

That was when he noticed she had followed him, a cautious smirk showing on her face.

The now lieutenant had always been intriguing to him, from the first day he met her in Don Cragen's office. She had a fire in her eyes, a determination in the way she set her jaw, and a tone that signaled she meant business. She was a woman who managed to stay in a unit like SVU for nearly twenty years, and still believe that there were good people in the world. That there was a reason to fight for justice.

And that evening was when his interest peaked even more. He had watched as she sipped the carefully selected bourbon, swallowing, before shaking her head a bit and raising an eyebrow at him.

He hadn't meant to, but in that moment, he fell head over heels for Olivia Margaret Benson.

"Who is she?" Barb asked, maybe a slight southern drawl to her speech, startling Ed out of his trip down memory lane.

But the question hit him hard in the gut, and he struggled to respond. So he downed the rest of his drink and tapped on the bar a bit before answering.

"No one," he rasped, before holding his glass up for a refill.

"Mhmmm," Barb let out, taking the glass and shooting him a look as if she knew he was lying. But again, she didn't press.

Sliding the freshly poured refill over to him, she gave him a wink.

"Keep telling yourself that," she said, before turning around and busying herself cleaning some dishes.

Ed let his head drop a bit, swirling the bourbon before taking a smaller sip and continuing his self-torture trip down memory lane.

 _What I can't just pop in?_

He cringed at his word choice. But as usual, Olivia didn't miss a beat with her response.

Looking back, he never quite understood why he had gone sniffing around 1PP to begin with that day. He hadn't consciously decided to make her well-being his priority, but somehow it still happened. Why was he suddenly so invested in SVU, in Olivia Benson? But she had gotten under his skin. Ed was no longer operating as his normal, calculated, skeptical self. He was living and breathing for SVU's shining star, and he was powerless to stop it.

 _Don't make a liar outta me._

 _I'm happy with the way things are_.

He knew better. He sensed something in her. The Olivia he knew never settled, and that was why he pushed the exam on her. Ed was not about to watch them remove the heart and soul from SVU because of a measly rank. Olivia would have never forgiven herself, and he couldn't let her go through that.

Had he winked at her? Again, Ed shook his head and laughed at himself. He had, in fact, winked at her that day. And he remembered the slight surprise and smirk on her face as he did it.

 _Think about it._

He had quickly left the squad room that afternoon, mainly because he didn't trust any other words coming out of his mouth, but more so because he felt himself falling. And it scared him.

Polishing off the second drink, he quietly asked for a refill and looked around for the men's room. Nodding at Barb, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed off towards the corner bathroom.

It had been a while since he had a night like this, where he just ended up drowning memories of Olivia. And he resigned himself to the fact that he couldn't stop it.

His bourbon was waiting for him when he returned, Barb nowhere to be found. Sighing in relief, he collapsed onto the stool, took a sip, and chuckled to himself when his next memory surfaced.

 _Is that tea?_

He chuckled a bit as he remembered his shock at finding Benson at a bar, drinking tea of all things. Looking back, she likely meant that outing as pure business. Once more, Tucker had surprised himself by insisting they relax a bit.

 _Man up, will ya?_

Again, he found himself cringing at the lines he spoke to her. It was like all of a sudden, being around Olivia caused him to be at a loss for words. And while he came across as smooth and calculated on the outside, he was stumbling all over himself internally.

Briefly he wondered if Olivia ever realized just how much she had managed knocked him off center.

Probably not, he concluded to himself. But she had. And even a year after he walked out of her apartment, he was not back on solid ground.

It was never intentional. But it was inevitable.

It had all been inevitable, really. Because no sooner had they started dating a bit, growing more comfortable with each other, than Eugene had barreled in and tried to fuck it all up.

 _You never told me your cousin was a priest._

 _You never asked._

Their little exchange at the One-Six made them laugh. In fact, it still made him laugh. Their relationship was building backwards. The nature of their jobs, and their work, had allowed them to know each other's darker side before the lighter side. Little details, such as the occupation of a cousin, were found out later.

He liked it that way. It worked for them.

"What's so funny?" Barb asked, reappearing from the back and wiping her hands on a towel.

Ed finally allowed a smirk.

"This my third?" he asked, knowing it was, but diverting the subject.

"Ah, the classic subject change," Barb said. "I get it. You're a tough nut to crack."

Ed just nodded, because he couldn't argue with that. Both he and Olivia had been very cautious about what they revealed at their bond strengthened. Or they had tried. The fiasco with Eugene had essentially blown all of that out of the water, and it wasn't all negative. Once the floor began to come out from under them, Ed opened up a bit more. He offered different tidbits, glimpses, into his past. And Olivia followed suit. But it was when Olivia had hastily met him in that dive bar, that Ed realized just how deeply he had fallen.

It was in the grip of her hands. The way she tightly held onto him as they sat with the knowledge of their world beginning to crash down. The way the grip got even stronger as he tried to tell her to walk away, not to stick her neck out of him. And then the way she lingered against him, in his arms, before heading down to 1PP to learn her fate.

He hadn't just fallen for her; she had fallen for him.

 _It was the best of times, it was the worst of times._

"What was that, stud?" Barb asked, turning around and shooting him a confused glance.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, not having realized he had vocalized his last thought. "Guess I'm just thinking out loud."

"Mhmmm," Barb mumbled, knowing that the man was wallowing in something. So she just went about her business, occasionally checking to see if he needed a refill.

 _Liv, I got here a quick as I could._

Ed's head immediately dropped as his mind forced him back to that fateful day at the hospital. In fact, even before he had arrived and was hearing the radio calls, his heart had plummeted.

Ever so briefly, he had thought Olivia was the officer who had been shot, and it had shattered his little world. But quickly, he had learned it that was Mike Dodds. Ed didn't allow himself much relief, though he remembered whispering a thank you to no one when he realized Olivia was unharmed. But he knew she was beating herself up, and he hadn't even learned the turn of events yet. That was just who she was. He had bolted from his office up to the hospital, without a second thought or a word to his secretary.

Despite their relationship being out in the open, they had remained strictly professional at work; but one look into her troubled brown eyes and all bets were off. Ed immediately reached for her, guiding her into the hallway, and standing as close as she would allow as he talked with her.

Once again, it was the way she gripped his hands that broke him. The way she would cling to him in the smallest of ways. He would've promised her the world right then, but that wasn't what she needed.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

Ed downed what was likely his fifth bourbon at that point, and it wasn't enough. His head was swirling with that phrase.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

"Dammit," he said, the glass slamming down onto the bar as he let his emotions get the best of him for a split second.

"Okay, hun," Barb said, taking the glass and wiping the spilled bourbon. "One more, on the house."

"Thanks," he grumbled, trying desperately to shake himself out of this memory. But he couldn't.

He thought about her smile.

He thought about her laugh.

He thought about her tears.

He thought about the dim lighting of her apartment.

He thought about her voice as she would tuck Noah in, before coming back out to him.

He thought about the way she would tuck her feet under her as they chatted late into the night on her couch.

He thought about her lips. How soft they were. How tentative she was to first kiss him, but then how eager she had become to taste him.

He thought about her body. All the places she had allowed him to touch her. To kiss her.

He thought about her moans. Her whimpers. Her cries as they made love.

He thought about how relaxed she was after they finished. How she would curl up to him, letting him hold her tightly as they drifted off to sleep.

He thought about her hesitance. Her tendency to run. To push people away.

He thought about the emotion in her voice as she broke up with him. Her trembling chin. Her whimper as his lips hit her forehead.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

Ed was lost. He was drowning in bourbon and memories of Olivia, and he needed it to stop. He gingerly turned his phone over, checking his messages, and then he tossed around the idea of texting her. Checking in.

It wasn't like they hadn't talked since they had split. They had. Maybe once a week one of them would initiate a "how are you" conversation and though it remained surface, it was something. They still hadn't quite let go of each other. So it wasn't unheard of that he might text her an update on this case, being he was stuck in Oswego. But as he took another sip of bourbon, he thought better of it. Ed was in no head space for small talk, and he didn't want to run the chance of saying too much.

"You gonna tell me who she is now?" Barb asked, leaning over and giving Ed a look of understanding. She knew that he was hurting that night and was offering him a chance to unload, but he wasn't going to give himself the relief.

"She's everything," he let go, his voice nothing but a hoarse whisper full of every emotion imaginable.

He leaned his head back, downing the rest of his bourbon, before slamming the glass onto the wooden bar and throwing a $100 bill down

"Keep the change," he rasped, nodding to Barb and heading for the door.

Ed shook his head, trying to clear his mind as he bundled up for the not even fifty foot walk back to the hotel. Olivia Benson was always going to be under his skin. There was nothing he could do about it.

He jumped slightly as he heard the door to the tavern slam behind him, the harsh lake-effect wind threatening to take his breath away, and his eyes closed briefly at the metaphor.

Once again shaking off the darkness, Ed Tucker steeled himself and trudged back to the hotel. While he never meant to fall in love, he had; and despite the heartbreak, he simply refused to fall out of love with Olivia Benson.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

* * *

 ** _I'm almost afraid to ask you for a review, but I will anyways. Do y'all want resolution, or nah?_**

 ** _#IfImGoingDownImTakingEverybody_ _WithM_ _e_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Brace yourselves. This is not pretty. But you should all know me well enough to know that I eventually fix it.**_

 _ **Part Two**_

 _ **#Tuckson**_

* * *

Olivia Benson took a small sip of the bourbon she ordered, Fin giving her a strange look, as the squad huddled around a small table in the cop-centric dive bar.

It had been an excruciating week, particularly for the Lieutenant, as the Special Victims Unit had been working alongside the FBI to bring down a sex trafficking ring. Long days turned into even longer nights, and Olivia found herself at her wits end missing time with Noah and running on very little sleep.

The case eventually imploded before their very eyes, taking down two FBI agents while the ring leaders escaped. They had managed to bring in some of the lower men on the totem pole, but between the loss of life, losing out on the big-wigs, and the FBI taking the suspects out of their precinct for questioning, the squad was nearing a breaking point.

Fin, finally having enough, stood up and took the reigns.

"Alright, let's go," he said, closing his computer, grabbing his jacket, and gesturing for Rollins and Carisi to do the same.

"Where?" Amanda asked, more than willing to bail on the day and grab a drink.

"O'Malleys," Fin said, checking his phone.

"Want me to grab Lieu?" Carisi asked, scratching his head in concern. Fin declined.

"Nah, I'll wrangle her outta here," he said with a resigned sigh. "You two go grab a table…"

"10-4."

Now, here they were. Each sipping slowly on their beverage of choice, not even attempting to make small talk. Until Carisi tried to break the ice.

"Well this just sucks," he said plainly, causing Amanda to chuckle and Fin to raise an eyebrow. Olivia just knocked back the rest of her drink and signaled the server to bring them another round.

Carisi looked on in concern.

"Ya okay, Liv?" he asked, not wanting to push her in front of everyone, but it was obvious she was teetering on the edge. And if he were honest with himself, she had been for quite a while. Even before this case.

There had been times, over the last year, when he, Rollins, and/or Fin would talk quietly amongst themselves about the way Olivia had changed. The way she talked with victims, interrogated suspects, or threw herself into her work.

Amanda would make a point, as much as she could, to get home for Jesse's bedtime. And at one point, Benson did the same. But it was waning.

"The wheels are comin' off," Fin had grumbled to himself one day, after just making Sergeant, before reluctantly heading into Olivia's office to order her home. She listened, but not happily. Just as she had an hour earlier when he all but drug her out of the one-six and down the block to O'Malleys.

"I'm fine," she said, nodding but not making eye contact.

The other detectives just eyed each other.

"What?" she snapped. "It's been a long week."

The second round came, and everyone nervously sipped except for Olivia, who once again slammed the bourbon back and let out a loud exhale.

"It's okay to be upset about this," Fin said pointedly, to all of them really. "Get angry, mourn, then get back to work on Monday."

Rollins nodded, holding her drink up for a mock cheers, but Carisi's eyes stayed on Benson, who was staring at the table.

"I should get home to Noah," she said suddenly, her voice still distant and her eyes glossy. "First two rounds are on me."

Olivia threw cash onto the table, gathered her stuff, and nodded to the three detectives.

"Lemme know if anything comes in that I need to be aware of," she said to Amanda, who was on duty that weekend. "Otherwise, I'll see you all Monday morning."

She briskly made her exit, the detectives still quiet, before Carisi apparently had enough and went after her.

Olivia made it about half a block before Sonny caught up, and began to walk along side of her, his hands in his pockets.

"Something wrong?" she asked, still looking straight ahead.

"Nah," he shrugged. "Just makin' sure you get home okay."

"I'm a big girl, Carisi," she said, eyeing him with a smirk. "I can take care of myself."

"I know," he said simply, continuing to walk alongside of her as she neared her subway entrance.

"You're really gonna follow me all the way home?" she asked incredulously.

"Yep," he said, taking out his metro card and swiping right behind her. "I'm single and it's Friday night. Got nothin' better to do than follow you around and let you grumble at me."

That actually made Olivia laugh a bit as they took their place on the platform for the uptown one train.

"Well, thanks," she said, a smile on her face, as she eyed Carisi. "I think."

"No problem," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Olivia froze, her entire body tensing up as Carisi casually said a sentence she hadn't heard in about a year. He had no way of knowing what his words would do to her, but none the less, it was the last straw.

"Don't say that," she ground out, the sound of the incoming train somewhat muffling her reply. But Carisi still heard her.

He said nothing, allowing her to board the relatively empty car and taking a seat beside her.

"Lieu?" he asked, his eyes scrunched up in concern at the way she had reacted.

That was when he noticed a lone tear escape. She wiped it quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed, but he had.

"Don't make promises you don't intend to keep, Carisi."

* * *

Hours later, after laying with Noah for a bit and holding him close, Olivia found herself on the couch. The living room was dim, the television was off, and the bottle of bourbon she had stashed was now open on the coffee table.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

Carisi tried to stay, and really Olivia couldn't blame him. Once he said those words, her entire demeanor had shifted, and she could tell he was worried.

"I can just crash on the couch," he offered, trying so hard to break through her thick shell. But it didn't work.

"I'm fine, Carisi," she said, patting his arm and walking him to the door. "I just need a weekend to decompress, and I'll be back to normal."

"Liv…"

"Carisi, I said I'm fine," she responded, her tone more firm and he received the message.

"Call me," he said. "Anytime."

Olivia nodded as she had shut and locked the door behind him, allowing her head to fall back against the door.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

"Dammit," she whispered, downing her second glass, fourth overall, and shaking her head, desperate to stop the memories. But it was futile. The reality of her failed relationship with Ed Tucker crashed into her like a freight train and she was powerless to stop it, so she poured another bourbon and went along for the ride.

 _There's nothing but honor in being a survivor._

She cringed. Had she really said that? Granted, Olivia had been trying desperately to get inside the head of this servicewoman, but she wasn't proud of the moves she made to get there. The lines she fed her, the way her tone took on a harsh inflection. It was not okay.

Of course there's more than honor in being a survivor. She knew that first hand, and she could only hope that her words, her demeanor, hadn't served to minimize what that young lady had gone through. That it wouldn't impact her road to recovery, as she felt all of the emotions survivors would feel.

"I can't believe I said that," she mumbled to herself, taking another burning sip of the amber liquid as she beat herself up.

Sure, eventually many survivors come out on the other end of the long tunnel of healing, and feel a sense of honor. But even then, the idea that it is the only emotion - and that all survivors must get to that point - is a pretty damaging line of thought.

And Olivia knew better. She always had. But at the end of the day, she had come home, second guessing herself the entire time. Obsessing over just how off-center she was, how out of the ordinary her words were. And yet, instead of having someone to call like she desperately needed, her apartment was dark, Noah was asleep, and once Lucy left, she was alone.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

"Alone," she whispered, her fifth or maybe even sixth glass resting on her thigh as Olivia let her head fall back and hit the back of the couch. She looked up at the ceiling, the room spinning a bit, so she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

But she was lost.

 _Did you turn into your father?_

Lindstrom's session that day was brutal, but also a bit odd. It was almost as if her therapist was driving the point home, knowing that she already knew deep down her genes were just fine.

It was an age-old question, though, in her line of work. A question that would likely come up again and again: are some people just born bad?

The reality was no one really knew for sure, but Olivia personally proved that you are not your genes. That your genetic makeup did not predestine you to commit crimes. And once again, instead of using her head and her heart and all the knowledge she had attained in her 18+ years of working with SVU, she went off the rails and regressed back to a time when she still questioned whether she was genetically violent.

Only this time, she almost took Noah down that road as well.

 _I'm always gonna love you, no matter what._

Of course she was always going to love him. That boy could do anything, and she would still give everything she had to make sure he was safe and loved and happy. But his genetic makeup was no more or less damning than her own, and for that, she needed to be in his corner. She needed to continue to fight and prove that genes do not matter.

She thought back to when she cracked his door and made her way into her bedroom, shedding clothes and turning on the shower. How as soon as the hot water hit her body, she dissolved into sobs. Confused, scared, and lonely.

"Get it together, Olivia," she had told herself as she scrubbed away the horrific week. "For Noah."

Thirty minutes later, she toweled off, threw on a night shirt, and crawled into an empty and cold bed.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

"Ed," she mumbled in real time, the alcohol really taking it's toll on her. The room was unsteady, her eyelids were drooping, and she had since dropped the tumbler next to her once she emptied it.

"I am not my father," she repeated to herself, coming out of her memory and shaking her head, though quickly regretting it. "Jesus, Olivia, what are you doing?"

She placed the tumbler back on the coffee table, tightly turned the lid back on the bourbon, and gingerly stood up to lock it away in her cabinet. Stumbling into the kitchen, she placed the bottle on the counter and took some deep breaths before the final blow to her psyche came crashing down onto her.

"Oh god," she said, her eyes closed as the tears finally began to pour down her face. "I'm my mother."

Olivia allowed herself a few more tears, before finally locking the bourbon back in its cabinet and reaching for her phone which was charging on the counter.

She had three messages.

 _Lucy: I'm home, Olivia. Have a good weekend!_

 _Carisi: Call me in the morning so I know you're okay, I'll bring coffee by around ten._

But it was the next message that made her entire body clench.

 _Ed: I miss you._

The tears were unstoppable as she clutched her phone to her chest. Unable to formulate a response, she just let his message go and stumbled back into her bedroom. She left the door open a crack so she could hear Noah, splashed water on her face before downing a few Advil and crawling into bed.

She turned over, facing the side of the bed that Ed used to occupy and gingerly traced her fingers over the cool pillow.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

* * *

The buzzer rang through the Benson apartment the next morning, but Noah didn't flinch from his perch on the couch watching cartoons. He was dipping his waffles in a bowl of syrup and shoving them into his mouth, causing Olivia to just smile at him from where she sat in her chair sipping a glass of water.

But she was still fuzzy from the night before. Her hair was a mess, makeup was still smeared on her face, and her head was throbbing.

"Dirty face, Mommy," Noah had said when he crawled into bed with her that morning.

"Mommy forgot to wash her makeup off, Noah," she had responded, and the little boy giggled before snuggling in for a bit.

Noah apparently no longer cared that her face was dirty, since he had his coveted weekend supply of Aunt Jemima's syrup. And Olivia had forgotten, again, to wash it off.

But the buzzer caused her head to vibrate in pain.

"Who dat?" Noah asked, wide eyed.

"Just Uncle Sonny," she said softly, just then remembering he said he was stopping by.

Trudging to the door, she opened it up and immediately reddened as Sonny's face took in her appearance.

"Liv?" he asked, concerned, as he made his way inside with a coffee tray and a bag.

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "Long night. Coffee?"

"Figured you could use it."

"You're a lifesaver, Carisi," she said, taking the steaming cardboard cup and closing her eyes as the first taste hit her throat. "Thank god."

"Olivia," Sonny began, hesitating a bit before going all in. "You look like shit."

She just laughed a bit.

"I feel like shit," she allowed.

They stood awkwardly for a bit, both sipping on their coffees, before Olivia's eyes closed again.

"I guess I let myself wallow too much last night," she said softly. "And, well, I don't really have anyone to stop me when I'm home…"

Carisi didn't say anything at first, trying to get over the shock that the Lieutenant was actually talking to him a bit. But when she didn't say anything else, he felt he needed to say something. Only the words that came out weren't quite what he had in mind.

"Heard from Tucker recently?"

Olivia's head fell as she bit her lip and shook her head a bit, causing Carisi to immediately regret his words.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "It's none of my business."

But she held her hand up, signaling for him to stop talking, before she looked up at him with red, watery eyes.

"He texted last night," she allowed, her voice deep and raspy, full of emotion. "I was too drunk to respond."

Her words were harsh in the air, and Carisi held his breath. This was not the Olivia Benson he knew. But she was responding to him, albeit minimally, so he pushed a bit further and prayed it didn't backfire.

"Ya know," he said slowly. "I'm not busy today. How about I hang out with Noah for a bit. You can get cleaned up, go for a walk, whatever you want."

"I'm fine," she said once more, but it wasn't quite as firm as she wished.

"You're not," he responded. "Let me help you."

* * *

Ed Tucker scrolled through his phone as the elevator climbed up to his floor.

In a last ditch effort to make some sense of his memories, and his night, he had texted Olivia. Opening himself up to her. Letting her know that he missed her, even if it didn't lead to anything.

But she hadn't responded.

His entire drive back to Manhattan was spent cursing himself for actually sending the drunk text. But his words to her echoed throughout his mind, and he loathed himself for the lie he told her.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

He squared up, almost ready to punch the wall of the elevator, but he thought better of it. Standing up straighter, shaking the tension out of his shoulders, he let out a sigh.

"Get it together, Ed," he growled out as the car beeped and the doors opened. Maybe a shower and some good sleep in his own bed would help.

He rounded the corner, pulling his keys out of his pocket, before he stopped dead in his tracks. Slumped against the door of his apartment was a red-eyed, puffy faced, mop of brunette hair. Traces of mascara still colored her otherwise pale cheeks, but as blue eyes locked onto brown, Ed swore there had never been a more beautiful sight.

"Olivia…"

* * *

 ** _Okay, so mayyyyybe this will be a three-parter. You tell me. But it's not my fault that _ick and Co fucked my show up so badly that it can't be fixed in a simple one-shot, is it?_**

 ** _I love y'all and I love reviews - you know what to do._**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Part Three - #Tuckson**_

* * *

 **Previously**

Ed Tucker scrolled through his phone as the elevator climbed up to the floor his apartment was on.

In a last ditch effort to make some sense of his memories, and his night, he had texted Olivia. Opening himself up to her. Letting her know that he missed her, even if it didn't lead to anything.

But she hadn't responded.

His entire drive back to Manhattan was spent cursing himself for actually sending the drunk text. But his words to her echoed throughout his mind, and he loathed himself for the lie he told her.

 _I'm not going anywhere._

He squared up, almost ready to punch the wall of the elevator, before he straightened and shook his shoulders a bit.

"Get it together, Ed," he growled out as the car beeped and the doors opened. "Maybe a shower and a nap in your own bed will help."

He rounded the corner, pulling his keys out of his pocket, before he stopped dead in his tracks. Slumped against the door of his apartment was a red-eyed, puffy faced, mop of brunette hair. Traces of mascara still colored her otherwise pale cheeks, but to Ed, there had never been a more beautiful sight.

 _"_ _Olivia…"_

* * *

Ed stalled for a bit, shocked at the fact that Olivia was in front of him. At first, he didn't even register how awful she looked. He was still trying to slow his heart down from the surprise, but as he shook himself out of that, he squinted a bit and his heart broke.

"Hi," the soft, scratchy voice that came from Olivia didn't sound like her at all. Ed just shook his head and rushed over, dropping his overnight duffle next to her and squatting down, his hands immediately reaching for her arms.

"Liv," he said, voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"

She nodded at first, and opened her mouth, about to give her typical _I'm fine_ response, but stopped.

 _No more cover ups, Benson_ , she said to herself.

So with a quivering chin and a nervous heart, her eyes met Ed's again and she slowly shook her head.

"No," she squeaked out.

Ed toed a line between relief that she was finally going to talk to him, to let him be there for her, and also fear as to why she was slumped against his door at noon on a Saturday, looking like hell.

"Okay," he whispered, nodding his head and shifting a bit so he could get a good grip on her arms. "Okay, come on. Let's get you inside."

Gently, but firmly, Ed lifted Olivia off the floor and got her steady on her feet. Keeping one arm tightly around her waist, he reached for his keys, unlocked the door, and got her inside and on the couch before going back for his bag.

Perching himself on the edge of the sofa, close but not too close to Olivia, who was now picking at the material on her leggings, he once again reached out and gripped her forearm.

"Is Noah okay?" he asked, first needing to get to the bottom of why she was there, and his initial fear was Noah.

Olivia just nodded, biting her bottom lip.

"Yeah, he's fine," she said. "Overdosing on syrup with Carisi."

"Are you hurt?" Ed followed up with, his eyes narrowing as they scanned her body for any signs that this was physical distress. But once again, Olivia shook her head.

"No," she said. "I just…"

She trailed off, suddenly completely unsure of what she should say to him. But, true to character, Ed was patient. He kept a comforting grip on her arm and allowed his blue eyes to soften while they continued to stay on her face.

"I miss you, too," she finally said, her voice cracking at the end as a tear made its way down her cheek.

Ed's eyes slipped closed and he let out a breath he had likely been holding for a year.

She missed him too.

Unable to stop himself, he shifted and pulled her into his arms, allowing her head to bury in the crook of his neck and his hand to tangle in her already messy hair.

As soon as her body fell into his, Olivia felt relaxation begin to take over which only made the tears flow a little bit more. She wasn't in full on sobs, but she was close. Instead of giving into it, she just closed her eyes and allowed her hand to grip Ed's navy blue polo shirt as he held her.

They stayed like that for a while, Ed occasionally kissing the top of her head and caressing her back, allowing her to try and gather her composure. He knew all he needed to know at that point. Eventually she would talk, or let him talk, and maybe they could get back onto solid ground. But Tucker was mainly just relieved to have his love back in his arms, knowing that she missed him too.

Olivia tentatively pulled away, but only slightly, reaching over Ed and grabbing a tissue from the box he had on his side table. She dabbed at her face and eyes, before shaking her head.

"I must look awful," she said with a little laugh.

Ed, making sure their legs were still touching, reached out and brushed her hair back before staring into her eyes yet again.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his eyes narrowing just a tad, the way they always did when he was trying to make sure she heard him.

His statement took her breath away. Taking a beat, trying to recover, she allowed herself to get lost in pools of blue. Remembering everything he had offered her: stability, strength, comfort, love. Finally, she took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I…I'm sorry," she said. Her voice was deep from the tears and exhaustion, and like the hangover. But her tone was strong and honest.

"I know," Ed said softly, his eyes still locked on her. "It's okay."

"But is it?" she asked, and her eyes revealed the questioning, the pain, she must have been experiencing the last year.

"It is," he replied simply, his head moving to the side a bit.

Olivia studied him for a while, the room enveloped in an odd silence. Neither one knew what to say next, but they didn't move away from each other. Their legs still rested against each other and their eyes were still locked. Finally, Olivia reached up to rub her eyebrow a bit.

"I came here," she began, "with so much to say. And now…"

"Hey," Ed said, his voice causing her to smile slightly as she raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

"We don't have to hash anything out right now," he said, moving to grasp her hands in his. She held onto him tightly, realizing just the sound of his voice was beginning to soothe her weary body.

"Okay," she whispered.

"We have all the time in the world," he said, before taking a deep breath and continuing, knowing his next statement was a risk. "I'm not going anywhere…"

Her body tensed. She tried to pull her hands out of his, but his grip was too firm. The tears began to sting the back of her eyes and her breathing picked up. She was beginning to lose her composure.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Don't say that."

"Liv…"

"Stop it," she hissed.

"Hey," he said, once again, taking both of her hands in one of his and using the other to wipe her tears and tilt her chin. "I know I broke that promise. And, Olivia, I will never forgive myself for it. But ya have to know I thought it was what you wanted."

"I…" she said, but the words wouldn't come out. Only tears.

Ed's heart cracked.

"Okay," he said, leaning over and kissing the tears away from her cheeks. "Okay, it's okay."

"No, it's not," she sobbed out. "I'm sorry."

Ed pressed his cheek against hers, giving her that contact and time to calm down, before he pulled back ever so slightly, allowing their eyes to meet again.

"We aren't gonna fix this overnight," he said. "And especially not with both of us working off of seemingly nasty hangovers…"

That seemed to do the trick, and Olivia let out a little laugh, moving her arm to wipe at her face with her sleeve.

"The only thing we have to decide right now, is whether or not we _want_ to do this," he said simply, but he was nervous. His entire world hinged on Olivia's response to that statement.

Fortunately, he didn't have to live in torture for long, because her head began to nod as she swallowed hard and tried to keep her composure.

"I've never wanted anything more," she rasped.

"Okay then," Ed responded, his characteristic smirk growing. "Now, considering we both consumed more than our fair share of alcohol last night, whaddya say I freshen up a bit then take you to brunch?"

"I'd like that," Olivia responded, a small smile gracing her face. But then it dropped slightly. "Oh, but Carisi is with Noah. I shouldn't leave him there too long. And, well, I haven't spent much time with him recently…"

That didn't deter Ed. He just shrugged his shoulders as he stood up.

"Then Noah comes too," he said simply.

* * *

After a successful brunch, they landed back at Olivia's apartment feeling slightly better than before, though still not a hundred percent. Noah was happily set up on the couch drawing on his LeadPad. Olivia was brewing a pot of coffee while Ed sat across from her at the counter, just watching her move around.

"You're staring," she said softly, not bothering to look up.

"I just can't believe I'm back here with you," he said without missing a beat.

Olivia paused, a slight blush creeping up her neck, as she met his eyes and gave him a soft, sad smile.

"I'm really glad you are," she said, making her way out of the kitchen and coming to stand in between his legs. Ed settled his hands on her hips and pulled her close to him, their noses touching.

They stayed like that, breathing together, before Ed moved to twist a strand of her hair.

"Please don't push me away again," he said so softly Olivia barely heard him.

She just nodded, unable to form words, and moved to press her lips to his. She was soft, yet firm, moving her hands to cup his face as they slowly moved against each other. When Olivia pulled back, Ed kept her bottom lip between his for a brief moment, causing her to blush.

"I missed that," he said, his fingers still twirling her brown locks.

"Me too," she said, the pads of her thumbs brushing lightly against his cheekbones. "Me too."

This time Ed initiated the kiss and pulled Olivia as close to him as he could get her whilst sitting on the barstool. He snaked his arms around her waist and toyed with the hem of her shirt, allowing his fingertips to caress the bare skin of her lower back.

Olivia let out a small gasp, opening her mouth up to allow his tongue to plunge in and out, exploring every crevice and every taste his could. She gripped his shortly cropped hair, wanting nothing more than to get lost in the feel of his body against hers.

Ed's fingers continued to lightly tickle her lower spine, occasionally moving around to her sides and hips. He wanted so desperately to calm her, to reassure her, to make her feel safe and loved, despite their time apart. And he poured everything he had into that moment, into that kiss, to get his message across.

It was received.

When they finally broke apart, merely due to the bloopity bloop from Noah's iPad game bringing them back into reality, Ed could see the tension physically leave Olivia's face. She kept her forehead on his for a bit, breathing deeply, before she kissed his nose.

"Do you…have plans tonight?" she asked, suddenly cautious and worried that their reunion would be cut short, but Ed just shook his head.

"Nah," he said, his blue eyes twinkling a bit as he continued to lazily smile at her. "I can stay…or not stay. It's your choice."

"Stay."

* * *

Ed was in the kitchen, fixing a couple glasses of water for him and Olivia while she got Noah down for the night. They both immediately recoiled at the thought of alcohol, being so fresh off of their previous night, but he decided to use her stemless ware for the water just to give the illusion that their night had a bit of liquid courage.

Right as he plopped a lemon and a lime slice into each glass, he felt a tiny tug at his sweatpants. Turning around, Noah stood looking up at him in his monster pajamas, his hands in the air wanting to be picked up.

Ed immediately scooped him up, bouncing him a bit and eliciting a giggle, before Noah leaned in and hugged his neck.

"Night night, Ed," he said softly as his head snuggled into the man's shoulder. "See ya in da mornin'."

Ed's voice caught in his throat, but he kissed the boy's head and rocked him a bit before responding.

"You absolutely will," he said firmly. "Sleep tight."

The little boy ran back to his room, allowing Ed a moment to relish in what had taken place. Olivia sending Noah out to say goodnight spoke volumes about where she was in their mini-reunion.

She was all in.

Moments later she came wandering back out, donning purple flannel sleep shorts and an oversized, cream colored sweater. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she had washed her makeup off. It was Ed's absolute favorite look. No walls. No persona. Pure Olivia Benson.

He wanted to drown in it. But instead, he handed her a water and smirked as they clinked the glasses together and sipped. He used his free arm to pull her in closer, burying his face in her neck and breathing in deeply.

They stayed like that for a while, Olivia having taken both of their glasses and placing them back on the counter, so they could lock into a tighter embrace. She clung to him with a quiet desperation, while he worked to make sure she knew he really wasn't going anywhere this time. Finally, Ed pulled back ever so slightly and wound his hand in her hair so he could adjust her head and see into her eyes.

They were brimming with unshed tears.

"Hey," he said, a look of concern crossing his features. "What is it?"

"I just…" she said softly, before shaking her head and giving him a smile. "I can't believe we are here…"

"I know," he said. "This time last night I was five bourbons in, talking to a gal named Barb with big, frizzy hair, and wallowing in my guilt of walking out of your apartment…"

Olivia's eyes never left his with that admission. They had dabbled a bit into their pervious night's horror, but had merely scratched the surface of just how deep their pain ran.

"And I was so busy beating myself up that I didn't notice I was turning into my mother…" she whispered, her voice cracking a bit.

It broke Ed's heart.

"You are not your mother, Olivia," he said, his voice strong and very serious. "One bad night of way too much bourbon is just that. A bad night."

"I didn't realize how off the rails I had become," she admitted, knowing neither one of them had the energy for a deep discussion, but being wrapped in his arms made the small admissions easier.

"We all have times when we stray," he said. "It's part of being human. The important part is getting back on track…"

"I realized something, though," she began, her voice still soft but a bit higher in pitch as it normally got when she was pushing herself to open up her emotions. "I realized...that I'm my best self when I'm with you."

The words knocked the breath right out of Ed Tucker's body. He moved to caress her face, the sides of her neck, her shoulders, and every inch of skin he could reach in that moment, as he collected himself enough to respond.

"I'm so grateful you came to me," he said, the emotion and the relief undeniable as he spoke. "I know that I broke that promise to you. But I will spend every moment from here on out making it up to you…"

"You don't have to," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders and moving to rub his chest lovingly. "Just be here."

Ed leaned forward, kissing her forehead and rubbing his lips against her skin for a few moments, before pulling back, cupping her face and staring straight into her heart and soul.

"I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

 ** _#FixedIt_**

 ** _Review, please?_**

 ** _Xoxo_**


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